


must have been some kind of kiss

by chasingforeverandaday



Series: forest love, forest lass [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, and I had a lot of feelings, because FORGE SEX BITCH, because it was awesome, but I wanted more, but also smut, so #forgesex happened, so behold my "more", there's banter and fluff and some angst for good measure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18568087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingforeverandaday/pseuds/chasingforeverandaday
Summary: Arya kisses Gendry and his brain just about gives out. But when she starts to boss him around, he finds his footing again and things go down slightly differently.(In which sex is definitely had at the forge, but with a little more snark, a little more emotion, and plenty of smut.)





	must have been some kind of kiss

**Author's Note:**

> So the forge sex happened and I had all the feelings. Plus half of an essay to write for class tomorrow. Guess which thing got written first. This is basically an expansion/adjustment of canon, because I didn't like the last Red Woman comment and they needed to use their words at least a little. And because there's nothing I love more than a bickering romance. This is my first attempt at smut so constructive criticism is welcome, but please be kind.
> 
> Also, you know how everyone has been laying music over the scene? My brain immediately decided this happened to "I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight" by the Cutting Crew, so that's where the title comes from. Why that's the song my brain picked, I have no idea.
> 
> I do not own any of this and this work has not been beta-ed.

He’s been staring at her with something akin to awe since she first kissed him, and she just can’t stand it right now, not when the world is unequivocally ending in a matter of hours. Not when they’ll both probably be dead soon. Before her entire plan can be derailed, Arya straightens, and looks down her nose at the boy who’s been haunting her for years, the man she has easily accepted as her own again, like their time apart never happened. Fingers pulling at the waistband of her breeches, she gives him a look. “Take your own bloody pants off.”

“There she is.” He smirks up at her, then looks down to his hands making quick work of his belt. Reaching down to rip off his boots and pants, he straightens back up, just as bare as she is. And gods, he’s better then she’d dreamed all those years ago, because he’s real and here and hers, at least for right now. Then what he had said registers through the haze his naked body had spelled her under.

“Who?”

“You, you sound like you again. Not quite so mysterious and scary.” Gendry’s mouth has softened into a grin as he reaches for her, pulling her into his lap. “Which isn’t to say that knife throwing wasn’t incredibly attractive.” Smiling, she leans down to kiss him, running her hands across his broad shoulders, but stops just short as he mutters, “To think I almost forgot how fucking bossy you are.”

Raising back up on her haunches, Arya smacks his arm, prompting a carefree laugh out of him, like they are just a boy and a girl taking a tumble in his forge, like an army of the dead isn’t approaching in the night. “Oh shut up and get on with it.” She rolls her eyes at her own predictability, already anticipating the retort she knows is on the tip of his tongue.

“As m’lady comm-” The words are cut off when she crashes back into him, kissing him with all she is worth. Settling fully atop Gendry, she rocks down into his lap, desperately grinding against the hardness she finds there. His hands feel as if they cover her entire body, mapping the scars of her years away from him, keeping a careful count of each indentation and ripple of muscle. She tries to do the same, but all she can focus on are his bloody arms and the way they’ve wrapped around her, pressing her into every inch of his skin. It’s like he’s trying to meld them together, to never let her be away from him again.

Flipping them over, Gendry begins to kiss down her neck, covering every bit of her with his lips. All she can do is take huge, gasping breaths as he works his way down her chest, worshipping her breasts for what feels like hours.

Then he reaches the scars from the Waif and stops, sending a worry filled glance her way. Arya can read the questions in his eyes, and she just can’t deal with that pain, not when this moment has been so perfect. She refuses to ruin them with the memory of what almost was.

Cupping her hand around his face, she rubs at a stubborn smudge of soot on his cheek. Softly, her voice barely a whisper, she breathes her truth into the dim light of the forge. “I can’t tell you, not tonight. Tonight is for you and me, and not anyone else. Once this is over, once we can live again, I promise to tell you anything you want to know.”

Head resting on her stomach, Gendry avoids her gaze, tracing nonsense patterns into the thighs bracketing his torso. “So now we’re making it through the fight to come?” He sounds hesitant, unsure of what she means.

Maybe she deserves that, after all she was the one to start spouting off about getting to experience a fuck before she dies. But he is so much more than that, he’s her _Gendry_ , and she breaks, because this was never about finding some random man to fuck, it was about finding him again and waking up a part of herself she’d long thought dead. He’s the only one she’s ever wanted, the only one she can see herself ever wanting, and she tells him so in the only way she can.

“Well I am, and if you know what’s good for you, Gendry Waters, you will be standing beside me to watch the sun rise.” 

“Arya, I… you know, you have to know that I-” Placing a finger to his lips, she shushes him gently, unable to hear the words she knows will come pouring out of his mouth. The words that have been rattling around in her own brain since she saw him riding into Winterfell. Since long before that, if she’s being completely honest with herself.

“Gendry, I know. Now please, I would prefer to continue before the dead break down the North Gate, or perhaps my brother will wander in here, looking for me.”

Dryly, he huffs a laugh at the image she paints, kissing his way down towards her cunt all the while. “You’re hilarious m’lady, truly.” Before she can fling a sarcastic quip back at him, he licks up inside of her, and she keens, all reason abandoning her, leaving only the burning need to finish the dance they’ve started. Her fingers dig into the sacks they’ve been laying on, trying to claw back towards her sanity, but gods, it just feels so good, in a way she never could have hoped for. Gendry’s tongue swirls around her clit as he twitches a pair of fingers into her. Everything is building so fast and she grabs his other hand, trying to ground herself with him, this beautiful man she used to dream about. One of his work roughened fingers brushes against a spot inside of her and her vision blurs white as everything seems to burst in pleasure. She thinks she gasps out his name, but she honestly can’t be sure of anything but the way he’s made her feel.

As she comes back to herself, Arya sees Gendry grinning down at her smugly, eyes dancing in happiness. Needing to win, she pushes him over again, straddling his waist and taking his head into her hands. She arches down, finding his mouth eagerly awaiting hers as she kisses him, devouring every bit of him that she can. But she still aches for him, still wants him, needs him to be with her completely. She sits up a bit and he wrenches his kiss reddened mouth back, staring up into her eyes with a small smile of absolute wonder making its way onto his face. When he grips beneath her thighs, she snakes one hand down for his cock, hard and waiting for her.

Together, they ease her down, a tiny moan escaping her as the blunt head makes its way inside her body for the first time. Throwing her head back, Arya stares into the dark ceiling of the forge for a second as she works to adjust to the sensation of Gendry’s cock as he does his best to stay still. Eventually, she feels him kissing her neck and turns back to him, pulling him back up to her lips.

He starts to move her up and down, a steady pace that causes that ache in her belly to return tenfold. Arya can’t control her mouth anymore, breath hitching on moans and tiny squeaks as Gendry drives her mad with his cock and his mouth and his hands. He is everywhere, surrounding her and coursing through her veins, etching himself on her heart with every movement, every caress. She does her best to return the favor, using her legs to make the most of her short range of motion in his lap and stroking her hands along his arms, into the short stubble of his hair. She scratches and bites and sucks, pressing her marks onto his skin to match the ones on their souls.

Just as she thinks she cannot withstand any more, something seems to snap in Gendry and he drives up into her with a force she hadn’t expected, a sharp pang of pain that quickly turns to pleasure. Their foreheads touch and both still for a moment, exhaling as one. Deep blue meets stormy gray as he breaths a nearly silent, “I love you,” crushing their mouths back together in a bruising kiss before Arya can respond.

And then they’re chasing their completion together, Gendry bending her backwards until she’s laying on her back as he snaps his hips into hers, drowning her in sensation. Arya twines her legs around his waist, arms tight around shoulders as she kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. All at once she feels pleasure roll over her and she presses lips tight to his so she can quiet the emotions she wants to shout to the world. Gendry falls after her within seconds, a whisper of her name into her mouth as he stills within her. Gradually, they break apart, eyes meeting for half a heartbeat before twisting away. He kisses her forehead and removes himself from her, an ache to be full again coursing through her thrumming body.

Facing the wall, she tries to box all her feelings back up, to contain the joy of finally being with Gendry, of being his, and the heartbreak flooding her system at the realization that this may very well be the only time she can. The love she won’t let herself speak into the world sits in the back of her throat until she shoves it down as deep as she can because she cannot love him yet, not when there is so much left to do before they can live.

Arya had initially rolled away from him, needing the space to pick up the scattered pieces of her heart. But now, she needs him close, needs to feel every breath Gendry takes, knowing it was one breath nearer to their deaths. She turns, curling into his chest, resting her head next to his heart. One of his arms pulls her in even more, and she looks up to see him gazing down at her, so many emotions reflected back at her.

Opening his mouth, he is about to say something to break the silence when she rises up just enough to seal the words back into his mouth with her own. It’s the softest kiss they’ve shared, and she tries to pour every ounce of the things she can’t say aloud into it.

She’s fighting a war with herself as she tries to fill the empty spaces in her heart with this feeling rather than the tears threatening to fall from her tired eyes. Gendry is with her again, they have found each other, and he _loves_ her. He loves her, and she loves him, she does, forever and for always if he’ll have her. _If they survive._ And this night cannot end, because when it does that means they have to leave this dirty little storeroom and face reality. The dead are marching ever closer, and Arya has never felt more terrified to lose in her life, not now that she has her family, her pack together. She can’t lose them, she can’t lose him.


End file.
